Funny How Life Is

Harry Patch, the last survivor of World War I, was buried today. "The Last Tommy" died two days before I was born at the ripe old age of 111. Wow. There's a chap who didn't have chance to choose what he wanted to do but made a damn fine fist of it; I wonder if I will.


Daddy was still wondering what to do when he met Mummy, so it seems. They took me to Royal Holloway today to see where they met. Dull, dull, dull.

But I did get to meet Uncle Chris and Uncle Nigel who work there. It's a lovely place really; I can see why Daddy never wanted to leave.

Uncle Chris is about to become a Daddy too. He looked a little bit worried, but I think he'll be very good. It's just a shame he hasn't had his hair cut lately because it will now be AGES before he finds the time to get to the barbers. I doubt Aunty Karen will even have chance to give him a bowl cut like she does sometimes.

Uncle Nigel gave me a nice cuddle but he didn't say much for a while because Aunty Lyne had just crashed the car and he was ruddy cheeked with rage.

We got home just in time for dinner. Daddy stayed up with me late because my tummy was hurting again. I even tried a dummy for a while but it was rubbish.

AMK

PS. Radiohead released a new single today paying homage to Patch, its lyrics based on some of his own words: "I am the only one that got through / The others died wherever they fell... / Give your leaders each a gun and then let them fight it out themselves."